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we are surprised at how much smaller things are than we remembered them,
and how much work needs to be done.
-The Hummer-http://branchingoutthroughtheyears.blogspot.com/noreply@blogger.com (Fran Ellsworth)Blogger470125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6799118134852549463.post-1791065611195150331Fri, 23 Nov 2018 13:51:00 +00002018-11-23T07:51:28.207-06:00Family Storiesfun memoriesThanksgiving travelsA Funny Thing Happened the Way To Grandma's...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">As I was making my way over the creek (no river on my land), &nbsp;and through the woods to see my son, I let my mind wander to Thanksgivings in the past.<br />It was a tradition for my dad, mom, and I to go back to Pawnee to see family.&nbsp; Today an hour drive doesn't seem like much but back then, it was FOREVER. Riding in the car with my parents was always and adventure. My mom and dad loved each other very much, BUT were not above a spirited disagreement. My mom had a funny history of getting her driver's license that should have kept her from being one to tell another how to drive, BUT it didn't keep her from being a backseat driver.<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-wzxD_uQJnJo/W_f_x10mx7I/AAAAAAAAd84/b-SbBTLRDxUQ7i41vCdEyEw_eBG5FSwXQCEwYBhgL/s1600/Langley%2BLester%2BMary%2B1967EdmondOK%2BBurtonPL%2Baddresscrop.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="121" data-original-width="195" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-wzxD_uQJnJo/W_f_x10mx7I/AAAAAAAAd84/b-SbBTLRDxUQ7i41vCdEyEw_eBG5FSwXQCEwYBhgL/s1600/Langley%2BLester%2BMary%2B1967EdmondOK%2BBurtonPL%2Baddresscrop.jpg" /></a></div><br />My memory of this particular Thanksgiving was enhanced by my dad's response and follow up.&nbsp; It was the best ever...I was laughing as I drove with this playing out in my mind. (btw if you see a little blue car with a yellow stick on the back that says "Genealogist don't die they just lose their census" know the driver is 50 % in the present and 50% in the past. 😉 Back to my story...<br /><br />After we had been driving about thirty minutes and mom never stopped with "Lester, you're going too fast." "Lester, watch out you are too close to the car ahead of us." "Lester, slow down." etc. etc.,<br />he said "Mary, that is enough." He pulled over to the side of the road, got out, handed her the keys, and said "Mary, you drive since you know best how to do it."&nbsp; She protested, but he got in the back seat with me and leaned back with his hands behind his head.&nbsp; She got into the driver's seat and started the car, and off we went.&nbsp; At first I was wondering what on earth was going on, then about five minutes on the road on my dad began pointing out everything she was doing and exaggerating about her choices.&nbsp; This went on for about fifteen minutes and she began to laugh and pulled over to the side of the road.&nbsp; Point made, and driver was changed again. The rest of the trip was made without conflict.<br />Do you have a story to top it?<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-XQ1mVS3rwtA/W_gCTBAf58I/AAAAAAAAd9A/OFspCO_8BqoqufWzPRV5XmZRXxLk5pTuACLcBGAs/s1600/turkey_01.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1012" height="320" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-XQ1mVS3rwtA/W_gCTBAf58I/AAAAAAAAd9A/OFspCO_8BqoqufWzPRV5XmZRXxLk5pTuACLcBGAs/s320/turkey_01.jpg" width="202" /></a></div><br /></div>http://branchingoutthroughtheyears.blogspot.com/2018/11/a-funny-thing-happened-way-to-grandmas.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (Fran Ellsworth)0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6799118134852549463.post-7540378049036908617Sat, 24 Mar 2018 16:26:00 +00002018-03-24T11:41:20.056-05:00death of a parentFuneralMotherObituaryObituary for Mary Lee Whitson Langley<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">My mother died in Hospice at her granddaughter Christina's home in Houston, Texas on March 21, 2018 with myself and her granddaughter Christina sitting by her side. It was a peaceful passing.<br />Her obit was penned by her granddaughter Aine.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-R7eXGZ66TJM/WrZvKOad8kI/AAAAAAAAbbI/inug2lh0K_YNLSsmkW6Z62QCyiu_qx7oQCLcBGAs/s1600/Mary%254049%2B%25281%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="761" data-original-width="517" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-R7eXGZ66TJM/WrZvKOad8kI/AAAAAAAAbbI/inug2lh0K_YNLSsmkW6Z62QCyiu_qx7oQCLcBGAs/s320/Mary%254049%2B%25281%2529.jpg" width="217" /></a></div><br /><div style="background-color: white; color: #26282a;"><span style="font-family: &quot;verdana&quot; , sans-serif;">Mary Lee Langley, a long time resident of Montgomery, Texas, peacefully passed away at the residence of her granddaughter Christina Whitworth of Humble, Texas.&nbsp;</span></div><div style="background-color: white; color: #26282a;"><span style="font-family: &quot;verdana&quot; , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div><div style="background-color: white; color: #26282a;"><span style="font-family: &quot;verdana&quot; , sans-serif;">Mary was born on May 4, 1928 in Fay, Oklahoma along with her twin, Marley Heggan.&nbsp; She was the thirteenth and last child of Harry and Matilda Whitson.&nbsp; Mary married her husband Lester Langley in 1947 and had one child, Frances.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span></div><div style="background-color: white; color: #26282a;"><span style="font-family: &quot;verdana&quot; , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div><div style="background-color: white; color: #26282a;"><span style="font-family: &quot;verdana&quot; , sans-serif;">When Frances went to school Mary got her teaching certificate and taught school for twenty-five years in Oklahoma City.&nbsp; In 1979 Lester and Mary moved to Montgomery Texas to be near their only child and her twin sister.&nbsp; Mary was hired as a teacher at Montgomery Elementary in Montgomery, Texas until she retired in 1993.&nbsp; She was active in the Montgomery United Methodist Church.&nbsp; She wrote weekly devotionals for the Montgomery County News and articles for The Courier and the Montgomery County News.</span></div><div style="background-color: white; color: #26282a;"><span style="font-family: &quot;verdana&quot; , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div><div style="background-color: white; color: #26282a;"><span style="font-family: &quot;verdana&quot; , sans-serif;">Mary loved art, hot air balloons, Macy's parades, bird watching, fishing, watching basketball, and football, along with Olympic figure skating and gymnastics.&nbsp; Her favorite tradition was having the family over for&nbsp;<span class="aBn" data-term="goog_320823591" style="border-bottom: 1px dashed rgb(204, 204, 204); position: relative; top: -2px; z-index: 0;" tabindex="0"><span class="aQJ" style="position: relative; top: 2px; z-index: -1;">Sunday</span></span>&nbsp;lunch.&nbsp;&nbsp;</span></div><div style="background-color: white; color: #26282a;"><span style="font-family: &quot;verdana&quot; , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div><div style="background-color: white; color: #26282a;"><span style="font-family: &quot;verdana&quot; , sans-serif;">She is survived by her daughter, Frances Ellsworth of Montgomery, Texas, and her six grandchildren:&nbsp; Aine (Russell) Schulmire of Idaho, Christina (Douglas) Whitworth of Texas, Edward (Marian) Ellsworth of Oklahoma, Emily (Joel) Ellsworth, Sarah (James) Smith, and Sean Ellsworth.&nbsp; She is also survived by thirty great-grandchildren, her beloved twin sister Marley Heggan and her sister-niece Jeannine Houchin, as well as many nieces and nephews.&nbsp; She was well loved and will be missed.</span></div><div style="background-color: white; color: #26282a;"><br /></div><div style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #26282a; font-family: &quot;verdana&quot; , sans-serif;">The viewing will be on Monday March 26th 2018 at the Cashner Funeral Home at&nbsp;</span><span style="background-color: transparent;"><span style="color: #26282a; font-family: &quot;verdana&quot; , sans-serif;">801 Teas Road, Conroe, TX. at 11 am followed by a graveside service in the Garden Park Cemetery officiated by Reverend&nbsp;David Lindwall of the Montgomery United Methodist Church.</span></span></div><div style="background-color: white; text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: transparent;"><span style="color: #26282a; font-family: &quot;verdana&quot; , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="background-color: white; text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: transparent;"><span style="color: #26282a; font-family: &quot;verdana&quot; , sans-serif;">Her m</span></span><span style="color: #26282a; font-family: &quot;verdana&quot; , sans-serif;">emorial will also be held on Monday March 26th 2018&nbsp;</span><br /><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #26282a; font-family: &quot;verdana&quot; , sans-serif;">from 2:30-4:30 pm at the&nbsp;&nbsp;</span></div><div style="background-color: white; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #26282a; font-family: &quot;verdana&quot; , sans-serif;">Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints on&nbsp;</span></div><div style="background-color: white; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #26282a; font-family: &quot;verdana&quot; , sans-serif;">1516 Wilson Rd, Conroe, TX 77304</span></div><div style="background-color: white; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #26282a; font-family: &quot;verdana&quot; , sans-serif;">Call or text 936 229 8291 if you need directions.</span></div><div style="background-color: white; color: #26282a; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: &quot;verdana&quot; , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div><div style="background-color: white; color: #26282a; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: &quot;verdana&quot; , sans-serif;">Her Funeral Card...&nbsp;</span></div><div style="background-color: white; color: #26282a; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: &quot;verdana&quot; , sans-serif;">The front is her painting of the original Montgomery United Methodist Church in 2001 that she loved so very much.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-spXytp7Dt5M/WrZv3BG4w2I/AAAAAAAAbbQ/9GJrSqfKNnYbWABUMlEC-pif8QLjtb_igCLcBGAs/s1600/FrontMemorialCover.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1133" height="320" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-spXytp7Dt5M/WrZv3BG4w2I/AAAAAAAAbbQ/9GJrSqfKNnYbWABUMlEC-pif8QLjtb_igCLcBGAs/s320/FrontMemorialCover.png" width="226" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6TLm1WRJM4E/WrZw7KCyz0I/AAAAAAAAbbc/8gxtLr8BMfMhAKHEdN6LEEGg3D2c1yloACLcBGAs/s1600/page%2B1%2Bfuneral%2Bcard.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="489" data-original-width="294" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6TLm1WRJM4E/WrZw7KCyz0I/AAAAAAAAbbc/8gxtLr8BMfMhAKHEdN6LEEGg3D2c1yloACLcBGAs/s320/page%2B1%2Bfuneral%2Bcard.JPG" width="192" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-JoKq_NJtyfA/WrZ7ocYOfWI/AAAAAAAAbb0/L14hyBftlwgHFgikMp-mTO7sJcniyEwzwCLcBGAs/s1600/page2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="487" data-original-width="297" height="320" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-JoKq_NJtyfA/WrZ7ocYOfWI/AAAAAAAAbb0/L14hyBftlwgHFgikMp-mTO7sJcniyEwzwCLcBGAs/s320/page2.JPG" width="195" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div style="background-color: white; color: #26282a;"><span style="font-family: &quot;verdana&quot; , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div></div>http://branchingoutthroughtheyears.blogspot.com/2018/03/obituary-for-mary-lee-whitson-langley.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (Fran Ellsworth)2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6799118134852549463.post-1394677909255711240Wed, 07 Mar 2018 20:26:00 +00002018-03-07T14:26:45.298-06:00#52StoriesfamilyFamilySearchRootsWhere Are Your Roots?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;">That is a good question and one that many are seeking an answer to by doing DNA test to find their "ethnicity". I did this too, and found that there were parts of my DNA that point to an area I had never consciously&nbsp;looked for. Sweden. My grandfather's name was Whitson. That should have already triggered a way point. As I have been involved in helping others used DNA to try and get past brick walls as well as myself, I have also been considering this question "Where are your roots?"</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;">I considered&nbsp;the question and I realized that for me, my roots are not where my family "came from" rather it is the people I associated&nbsp;with. I, as you know if you have read my blog, had both of my grandmother's live with our family as I was growing up. You might think, "that must have been awesome to have them around to tell stories.". It might have been had I known what to ask. There weren't prompts to do so, or places like FamilySearch to give prompts like <a href="https://www.familysearch.org/blog/en/52stories-weekly-questions/">#52 Stories Weekly Questions</a>&nbsp;when I was growing up. Oh what a difference that makes today. My grandmother's didn't talk about their past, and the few questions I did ask were quietly moved to the side and answered in a way that, I suppose, was where their minds lay. What I did learn was as I have said before was being spiritual, serving, and cuddling from one. The other was perseverance,&nbsp; fortitude, and getting along with others.</span><br /><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;">Thus my roots were planted and nourished by two women who not by words, but actions shaped what kind of person I would become. They were women who had been shaped by both pioneer parents and raising large families. They were of the land and had lived their adult lives during the settling of Oklahoma through the Great Depression. I am sure that is where my tendency to save and never throw anything away comes from.&nbsp;</span><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-FaAZJwwD6Ls/WqBDVb6M-hI/AAAAAAAAbYw/2I1w7GeeYI4zk68tFNy_Sps-fYDbHWRMgCLcBGAs/s1600/grandmothers%2B.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1600" height="320" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-FaAZJwwD6Ls/WqBDVb6M-hI/AAAAAAAAbYw/2I1w7GeeYI4zk68tFNy_Sps-fYDbHWRMgCLcBGAs/s320/grandmothers%2B.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">on Left Matilda Whitson on right Lenorah Langley</td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;"><br /></span><br /><h1 class="entry-title" style="background-color: white; color: #313131; font-family: museo, serif; font-size: 35px !important; line-height: 42px; margin: 10px 0px; text-rendering: optimizeLegibility;"></h1></div>http://branchingoutthroughtheyears.blogspot.com/2018/03/where-are-your-roots.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (Fran Ellsworth)0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6799118134852549463.post-8022899908228472202Tue, 13 Feb 2018 00:57:00 +00002018-02-12T18:57:54.196-06:00#52 Weeks #Mothers #Family #Memories #genealogyA Tribute to My Mom<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">Mom is still living albiet she is not active any longer.<br />As I was sitting watching her in ICU and talking with younger cousins on Facebook, thoughts of how it was I knew cousins and aunts and uncles in my family strode through my mind.&nbsp; Those thoughts were intertwined with my mom and her love of family. Being number 13 in a family of 13 and all of her brothers and a few sister being gone by the time she was in school, must have given her some sense of need to keep in touch with family. There never was a picture of the whole family. I know her mom taking in two of her grandchildren and raising them with mom made an affect on her for opening your door to family.<br />When I was very small, due to my dad losing the lower portion of his leg, we lacked funds for a house. We lived with my Aunt Lynn for about a year when we moved from Iowa back to Oklahoma. I guess my cousins and I slept in the living room on pallets and the parents had the two bedrooms. I just remember the house and playing outside. Another example of family helping family in my mom's early married life. She was able to go to college and dad supported her by washing dishes. Since the college was a few hours away, she chose to stay there during the week and come home on the weekends. She worked for a lady to pay for her room and board during the week. We missed her, my dad's family said she would leave him, which he poo pooed at (using a slang term of the time&nbsp;&nbsp;<span style="font-family: &quot;Segoe UI Emoji&quot;, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;">😉</span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 107%;">)&nbsp;</span><br />and it didn't happen.<br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-nbPgL_-_FNk/WoIwJQlVefI/AAAAAAAAbTg/1l-AeIBItoEDTWmImasCPlwi5BExL9aCgCLcBGAs/s1600/Mary%2Band%2BFrances%2Band%2BLester%2BLangley.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1136" data-original-width="1488" height="244" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-nbPgL_-_FNk/WoIwJQlVefI/AAAAAAAAbTg/1l-AeIBItoEDTWmImasCPlwi5BExL9aCgCLcBGAs/s320/Mary%2Band%2BFrances%2Band%2BLester%2BLangley.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">mom me and dad</td></tr></tbody></table>We moved to Edmond, Oklahoma where my dad was able to get training in HVAC. She finished at Central State College (it is a University now) and did some of her student teaching there. Their first house they bought was a duplex because my dad's mom needed to be close to someone. Mom was kind and helpful to her. Eventually they bought a separate house and moved it in on the oversized lot next to us. Dad remodeled the duplex into a three bedroom home, one of the bedrooms was a converted screened in porch that doubled as wash room and guest room. I was an only child.&nbsp; Mom taught 5th and 6th graders in <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Millwood_Public_Schools_(Oklahoma)">Millwood School </a>&nbsp;from 1955 to 1980. (I need to write about my mom learning to drive...that was a trip).<br />When holidays came, we would usually go to Pawnee, where my aunts and uncle lived. It was always fun, the women in the kitchen, the guys talking about hunting or a game on the tv and the kids playing outside. Then two of my aunts had a disagreement, my dad didn't want to go anymore, but mom insisted that we go and take a day going to visit each one individually. We did not lose contact.<br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-5IndtaoZ77I/WoIwgLItK6I/AAAAAAAAbTk/wVQU44Z0PGsURf4-ZqSInwQ-QacDcT59gCLcBGAs/s1600/Lynn%252C%2BLester%252C%2BDella.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1088" data-original-width="1168" height="298" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-5IndtaoZ77I/WoIwgLItK6I/AAAAAAAAbTk/wVQU44Z0PGsURf4-ZqSInwQ-QacDcT59gCLcBGAs/s320/Lynn%252C%2BLester%252C%2BDella.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dad and two of his sisters</td></tr></tbody></table><br />On her side of the it wasn't that easy. Her sisters were all over, and three of her brothers she had not seen since she was 9 lived on the Pacific Coast. The youngest brother was in the Service so he would come visit when they were in the country. We would drive over to her niece Jeannine's in El Reno, who was just a year younger than she was to visit with her and her family or down to Oklahoma City to visit with Aunt Edna and her children... This family would come and visit at our house. One year dad bit the bullet and saved enough so we could drive to Albuquerque to visit her sister Lola at Christmas. That was a treat. Aunt Lola's husband was Polish, so she fixed Polish dishes one meal and then Southwestern dishes of New Mexico at another meal. Great memory.<br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0Et81EzHwAA/WoIw2HyVToI/AAAAAAAAbTo/bkcpK8hH90cEM6ZMi3-P1mzD8WZ_27Q4gCLcBGAs/s1600/lolA%2BAND%2BMATTIE.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="682" data-original-width="429" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0Et81EzHwAA/WoIw2HyVToI/AAAAAAAAbTo/bkcpK8hH90cEM6ZMi3-P1mzD8WZ_27Q4gCLcBGAs/s320/lolA%2BAND%2BMATTIE.jpg" width="201" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lola and my Grandmother Whitson</td></tr></tbody></table><br />During the summer, I remember we would have cousins from either side of the family come at different times to stay for a multiple of reasons. Mom opened her door for anyone in need. Older cousins came with their families and lived with us in the small house while they were getting on their feet. One cousin, the son of the brother in the Air Force, came and stayed with us for a short time until he got an apartment while he went to college. Grandmothers on both sides came to live with us.<br /><br />My dad's mother longer, that is another story.<br />When they moved to Texas to be near me, the cousins and aunts and uncles came down to make sure that Ned and I were treating them right.&nbsp;<span style="font-family: &quot;Segoe UI Emoji&quot;, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt;">😊</span><br /><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: &quot;Segoe UI Emoji&quot;,&quot;sans-serif&quot;; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-family: &quot;Segoe UI Emoji&quot;; mso-fareast-font-family: &quot;Segoe UI Emoji&quot;;"><o:p></o:p></span></div><br />Mom was always on the phone with someone or writing to them. After my dad died, she had enough money to travel. One of the first trips was to California to see her brother George. She love that. Then she and her sister and niece went to Washington to see the brother in the Air Force that had settled near Spokane. While up there they met with her oldest living brothers Elbert and Ray and made contact with their son Ray who was an artist. Since mom loved art and was dabbling in painting, this was exciting to her. Ray and his wife Caroline kept in touch through mail until she couldn't think well enough to write. Even after Ray has passed away, Caroline and she still send Christmas cards to each other.<br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-0qnzqyS1wVc/WoI0fjGEk3I/AAAAAAAAbUA/rPRIfe-WB-I1WPlmLe3ZhZJpI-mbR9qFwCEwYBhgL/s1600/meadie%2Bmary%2Bmarley%2Blola%2Bjeannine.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="893" data-original-width="1364" height="209" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-0qnzqyS1wVc/WoI0fjGEk3I/AAAAAAAAbUA/rPRIfe-WB-I1WPlmLe3ZhZJpI-mbR9qFwCEwYBhgL/s320/meadie%2Bmary%2Bmarley%2Blola%2Bjeannine.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mom, Meadie, Marley, Lola, and Jeannine</td></tr></tbody></table><br />When it was time for Fay, Oklahoma's bicentennial celebration, she was instrumental in collecting pictures and stories for a personal book called Fay Day's [a book of poems about family and acquaintances she remembered from growing up]&nbsp; which was illustrated by her cousin's husband William "Bill" Shotts&nbsp; and&nbsp; <a href="https://www.worldcat.org/title/story-of-fay-the-history-and-memories-of-a-pioneering-community-1894-to-1994-a-century-of-goodwill/oclc/38968013&amp;referer=brief_results">Fay History Book</a>.<br />Her heart and arms have always been open to love on family. Even now as she lies trying to overcome pneumonia, she keeps coming back the same question... Naomi and Melvin are gone? This is my dad's nephew and his wife that were the same age as mom. She loved them greatly.<br /><br />At 89, she has seen all but herself and her twin pass away in their family. My dad and his brothers and sisters are gone. She loved on all of them at some time and held on to the nieces and nephews. She has been my example to gather family like a hen gathers chicks, and to not be selfish.<br /><br />In closing, I will tell you... She taught 35 years as a elementary teacher. She taught all subjects but her love was reading and art. When she retired, she took up writing and was published in newspapers and a couple of magazines. Kids she taught still remember her and projects she did with them. She also tried painting. Many of the family have her paintings still in their homes. When she started developing dementia and anxiety, my aunt and I went through a period of denial because it was so foreign that she could be such an active mind and all of a sudden not even pick up a pen to write with or a book to read. She is a lovely lady and I am grateful for the example she sat for me through the years. It has made me a better person.<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-nvplhf1c9-4/WoIxcuyyAUI/AAAAAAAAbT0/0EqBOgy5DMoirSwyCeRM4LLK7roll2k3wCLcBGAs/s1600/life_greatest_blessing_family.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="314" data-original-width="851" height="118" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-nvplhf1c9-4/WoIxcuyyAUI/AAAAAAAAbT0/0EqBOgy5DMoirSwyCeRM4LLK7roll2k3wCLcBGAs/s320/life_greatest_blessing_family.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><br />A note: I have the original Fay Days book. If anyone would like one, let me know.</div>http://branchingoutthroughtheyears.blogspot.com/2018/02/a-tribute-to-my-mom.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (Fran Ellsworth)2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6799118134852549463.post-940796011444156638Mon, 29 Jan 2018 04:24:00 +00002018-01-28T22:24:33.254-06:00Becoming betterBloggingGenealogy Blog PartyGoalsGoals to Help Me Shape Up and Get It Right<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br /><div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="color: black; font-family: &quot;Helvetica&quot;,&quot;sans-serif&quot;; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;;">Joining in with Elizabeth O’Neal’s Blog party for </span><span style="background: white; color: #202020; font-family: &quot;Helvetica&quot;,&quot;sans-serif&quot;;">January&nbsp;</span><a data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?hl=en&amp;q=https://mydescendantsancestors.us12.list-manage.com/track/click?u%3D2274da5d2f540311e0f06c838%26id%3Def3c5ef3a2%26e%3D90a0e2e6d8&amp;source=gmail&amp;ust=1517283310717000&amp;usg=AFQjCNEXKzq-X7-tj0xQbOnejOn7CGe45A" href="https://mydescendantsancestors.us12.list-manage.com/track/click?u=2274da5d2f540311e0f06c838&amp;id=ef3c5ef3a2&amp;e=90a0e2e6d8" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;" target="_blank"><strong><span style="background: white; color: #2baadf; font-family: &quot;Helvetica&quot;,&quot;sans-serif&quot;;">Genealogy Blog Party: Shape Up Your Research</span></strong></a><span style="background: white; color: #202020; font-family: &quot;Helvetica&quot;,&quot;sans-serif&quot;;"><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; float: none; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">&nbsp;</span> I love following her, receiving her newsletters, and using her suggestions to stretch my stride. I first became acquainted with Elizabeth when I took ProGen classes. She is an amazing mentor.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="color: #202020; font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif;">&nbsp;These are my <b>Genealogy</b>&nbsp;<b>Shape Up Goals</b> this year.&nbsp;</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="color: #202020; font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif;">(had to add Genealogy so as to not give you false expectations.&nbsp;</span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; text-align: left;">&nbsp;</span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: &quot;Segoe UI Emoji&quot;, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; text-align: left;">😉)</span></div><span style="font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"></span><div class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: left; vertical-align: baseline;"></div><ol style="text-align: left;"><li>&nbsp;<span style="font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; text-indent: -0.25in;">To lengthen my stride in DNA understanding I am taking and giving classes on DNA. I am learning more each time I attend or prepare lessons. Taking a clue from the experts, there is always more to learn.</span><span style="font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal;">&nbsp;</span></li><li><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">While I do not have the resources to travel much or to pay for many conferences, I plan to take advantage of Webinars and Virtual Conferences. Not as much fun socially but still informative.</span>&nbsp;</li><li><span style="font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; text-indent: -0.25in;">I will write on my blog and then transfer to <a href="https://www.familysearch.org/photos/">FamilySearch Memories</a> at least 6 family stories. Reason for transfer is to insure they will not be lost.</span></li><li><span style="font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; text-indent: -0.25in;">I</span><span style="font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; text-indent: -0.25in;">&nbsp;will finish my applications for both T<a href="http://www.txsgs.org/programs/heritage-certificates/first-families/">exas First Families Certificate</a> and The DAR as well as "turn them in". </span><span style="font-family: &quot;Segoe UI Emoji&quot;, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; text-indent: -0.25in;">😉</span></li><li><span style="font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal;">&nbsp;</span><span style="font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; text-indent: -0.25in;">I am not brave enough to Vlog, but I have the goal to post on my blog at least monthly this year. Life happened and I fell short in the last two years but will accomplish it this year.</span></li><li><span style="font-family: Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; text-indent: -0.25in;">I will continue to encourage and assist my children that have expressed interest and are helping with family research. Mercy it has been a trip trying to do the research on mine and my husband’s genealogy. Rewarding but exhausting.</span></li></ol><br /> <span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">There is still time to join in with the others on Elizabeth's blog. Come and Join the party and make yourself accountable for the coming year.&nbsp; Reading over this makes me wonder how I am going to measure up.&nbsp;</span><span style="background-color: yellow; font-family: &quot;Helvetica Neue&quot;, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">😊</span></div>http://branchingoutthroughtheyears.blogspot.com/2018/01/goals-to-help-me-shape-up-and-get-it.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (Fran Ellsworth)2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6799118134852549463.post-3460485920990060259Mon, 22 Jan 2018 22:24:00 +00002018-01-22T19:17:02.775-06:00#familyhistoryfamilygoodbyesmemoriesseparationThe End of an Era<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">By the title you might think I mean, a death occurred. Not so. But it is the end of shared moments and fun times for these three lovely ladies that have had a long life of memories together. My mom, her twin, and their niece are the last of their generation living.&nbsp; My cousin who lives in Virginia has moved her mom, my mom's twin, to be near her. Neither of the twins are able at 89 to make the trip back and forth now, and the niece may or may not fly to see one or the other, she is just a year younger.<br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-q8f2ewe4gKg/WmZb4xpAdSI/AAAAAAAAbPE/WDued9HRdU0ZG0eiA64_T0z9WIcg-a1mwCLcBGAs/s1600/20170709_121850.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="225" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-q8f2ewe4gKg/WmZb4xpAdSI/AAAAAAAAbPE/WDued9HRdU0ZG0eiA64_T0z9WIcg-a1mwCLcBGAs/s400/20170709_121850.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Niece is on the left. The twins are on the right.</td></tr></tbody></table>When they were young they were always together. The niece's mother was 23 years older than her sisters. When her mother died she was raised by her grandmother with her aunts, who were just a year older.<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-IFbOPHg5aIo/WmZdjLDMgnI/AAAAAAAAbPQ/ooE2vfd5rtUbisBI3irpu5-NtMqpgfNcwCLcBGAs/s1600/Whitson%2BJeannine%2BMary%2BMarley.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1120" data-original-width="1600" height="224" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-IFbOPHg5aIo/WmZdjLDMgnI/AAAAAAAAbPQ/ooE2vfd5rtUbisBI3irpu5-NtMqpgfNcwCLcBGAs/s320/Whitson%2BJeannine%2BMary%2BMarley.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Can you imagine being a mother, grandmother to this group.&nbsp;</td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-8yrfG1P_xyY/WmZfcZPqm5I/AAAAAAAAbPc/ScwJWGTrpH4VCj4yJs8DcKheGGA3T626ACLcBGAs/s1600/Whitson%2BMary%2Bmarley%2Bjeanine%2Bheart.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1045" data-original-width="733" height="320" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-8yrfG1P_xyY/WmZfcZPqm5I/AAAAAAAAbPc/ScwJWGTrpH4VCj4yJs8DcKheGGA3T626ACLcBGAs/s320/Whitson%2BMary%2Bmarley%2Bjeanine%2Bheart.jpg" width="224" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Happy graduation day!</td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;">When they were raising their children, because they lived in different states and different towns and they all worked, there were few times they all got together at the same times.</span></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5uuwcTNzyeY/WmZf3buQF-I/AAAAAAAAbPg/mJnk-Dyn-68mpaDzAEPpmqK5GdG8Awv0ACLcBGAs/s1600/Whitson%2BMary%2BLangley%2BEula%2BW%2BForbes%2BJeannineHouchin%2BPat%2BCook%2BMarley%2BHeggen.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1022" data-original-width="1474" height="221" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5uuwcTNzyeY/WmZf3buQF-I/AAAAAAAAbPg/mJnk-Dyn-68mpaDzAEPpmqK5GdG8Awv0ACLcBGAs/s320/Whitson%2BMary%2BLangley%2BEula%2BW%2BForbes%2BJeannineHouchin%2BPat%2BCook%2BMarley%2BHeggen.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My mom on the left, another sister, the niece, a friend, a niece of a younger generation, and mom's twin.</td></tr></tbody></table>Then my father and the niece's husband died. That began the times of the three going on summer time adventures until they all retired, then they found time to go on cruises and long trips.<br />The last 10 years my mom has been in assisted living for a combination of dementia and depression. Her medication has helped her greatly. The result was we would have to get together on the birthday of the twins. My daughter hosted some meetings. Some get-togethers were at my aunts.<br />I have to admit that I cried the last time we all met, and so did my mom, who realized in spite of her dementia, that this was their last meeting while living. My cousins and I went to great lengths and distances to make sure they had a time to say good bye.<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-pfnWz3JaXcM/WmZgwOTa4gI/AAAAAAAAbPw/nG8M88Y-TQ8Bylz4c2yye9ZDMUxqORxvACLcBGAs/s1600/Whitson%2Bsisters%2Bmary%2Bmarley%2Band%2BJeannine%2Bweb.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="768" data-original-width="768" height="400" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-pfnWz3JaXcM/WmZgwOTa4gI/AAAAAAAAbPw/nG8M88Y-TQ8Bylz4c2yye9ZDMUxqORxvACLcBGAs/s400/Whitson%2Bsisters%2Bmary%2Bmarley%2Band%2BJeannine%2Bweb.png" width="400" /></a></div><br /><br /></div>http://branchingoutthroughtheyears.blogspot.com/2018/01/the-end-of-era.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (Fran Ellsworth)0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6799118134852549463.post-7333989424321220228Mon, 24 Jul 2017 00:25:00 +00002017-07-23T19:25:00.267-05:00Blue Raspberry SundayHero Storylove at first sightSentimental SundaySentimental Sunday A Hero Story...Love At First Sight<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br /><br />I have told my story many times to others, but it is usually in conjunction with being a college student and trying to work full time.<br /><br />I had just moved to Houston from St Ann, Illinois where I had been living and working with my best friend. I had decided I wanted to go back to college and finish. Now, I had only gone to one semester at the local college where I lived in Oklahoma, while living at home. I suffered a heart break and my best friend said come up and live with me to get away from it all. I was working for SW Bell telephone as an operator, so it was easy to transfer. We had a lot of fun.<br />My mom and dad encouraged me to go back and finish college. I started researching places to go for a Nursing degree, and the best one was in Houston. My best friend was up for an adventure and decided to move to Houston with me.<br />We got there. She had been able, if memory serves me well, to transfer with her skills. I on the other hand found there weren't any openings with the telephone company in Houston. The college posted jobs available in the area. One was to be an all night checker at the Methodist Hospital cafeteria. I guess they catered to students, because I got the job even though I had never worked as a checker before. It was a lot easier getting a beginning job back &nbsp;in the day. I often now feel like it was meant to be. My thoughts were how hard can it be? I can work all night, probably get some study in, and then go to school during the day. I can do this.<br />Ahmad was training me. He was quitting, so he was training me to take his place. The first night I was in training, Ahmad had a huge group of friends come in during his break time to visit. The Hero was among them. He was home on leave from his Army Reserve Training.<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-BM7Q1Vg_sLQ/WXU8kUx-wRI/AAAAAAAAap4/S0eKgN4GdlA87vnqtM6FvIM7p1vU0RTeQCLcBGAs/s1600/international%2Bwedding%2Bfor%2Bblog.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="370" data-original-width="432" height="274" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-BM7Q1Vg_sLQ/WXU8kUx-wRI/AAAAAAAAap4/S0eKgN4GdlA87vnqtM6FvIM7p1vU0RTeQCLcBGAs/s320/international%2Bwedding%2Bfor%2Bblog.png" width="320" /></a></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-SzkfWu_C__w/WXU8r0r2CgI/AAAAAAAAap8/GcRIaSyng-o0qCLmAtfWGkCputg1NZ1ZwCLcBGAs/s1600/nedmilitary.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="456" data-original-width="404" height="320" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-SzkfWu_C__w/WXU8r0r2CgI/AAAAAAAAap8/GcRIaSyng-o0qCLmAtfWGkCputg1NZ1ZwCLcBGAs/s320/nedmilitary.jpg" width="283" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My handsome hero</td></tr></tbody></table><br />As I sat there, I just listened to the conversation flow. The Hero was asking Ahmad for help because his wife had filed for a divorce on him the 2nd month of his training. At one point, our eyes met and held. I was mesmerized. Later in life we reminisced about our first meeting. He said he thought my eyes were so pretty and he wanted to know me, but at the time, his thoughts were on his crumbling marriage. &nbsp;I remembered being caught up in the moment in his eyes and wondering, how could I ever date a divorced man. Neither of us ever forgot the moment that everything else faded away and our eyes were locked.<br />It would be 2 months later before we dated, and a year later before we married, but the love was there. He hesitated fearing to be hurt again. I was not ready to hesitate, and never let go. He laughed and said on our first date I was the most forward girl he ever met... Okay, I told him I was going to marry him and have his children...not the most subtle way to let a man know you have chosen him.<br />It all worked out and we had our forever marriage sealed in the Mesa Temple...and ya'all have been hearing about the rest of the story.<br />Sometimes, not always, hearts touch each other through the eyes. I am glad ours did.<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-15CDT81px7Q/WXU862OV6lI/AAAAAAAAaqA/t6_e74tagxIn3XspN4JeDCljPs_G8hghQCLcBGAs/s1600/me%2Band%2Bned%2Bviginet.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="254" data-original-width="278" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-15CDT81px7Q/WXU862OV6lI/AAAAAAAAaqA/t6_e74tagxIn3XspN4JeDCljPs_G8hghQCLcBGAs/s1600/me%2Band%2Bned%2Bviginet.jpg" /></a></div><br /><br /></div>http://branchingoutthroughtheyears.blogspot.com/2017/07/sentimental-sunday-hero-storylove-at.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (Fran Ellsworth)0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6799118134852549463.post-3114353903436577896Wed, 21 Dec 2016 07:27:00 +00002016-12-21T01:27:35.730-06:00A Hero StoryBlog CarolingChristmasThe Angel in the Christmas PlayBlog Caroling... A Favorite Time of year.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><span style="background-color: white; color: #4b4b4b; font-family: &quot;verdana&quot; , &quot;geneva&quot; , sans-serif; font-size: 15.84px;">Every year <b>footnoteMaven</b> hosts a fun event called <b>Blog Caroling</b>, a favorite activity for me. If you want to join, then head on over to this <a href="http://www.footnotemaven.com/2016/12/fms-tradition-of-blog-caroling.html">blog post at fM's.</a>&nbsp;</span><br /><span style="background-color: white; color: #4b4b4b; font-family: &quot;verdana&quot; , &quot;geneva&quot; , sans-serif; font-size: 15.84px;">There are many Christmas carols and hymns that touch my heart, but sometimes you just need to stop and have some fun. When the Hero and I would talk about Christmas plays and our children were in the Church party Manger scenes, he would always break out in song about "<b>The Angel in the Christmas Play</b>". This Christmas song was written in 1949 by Spike Lee. &nbsp;The Hero would have been about 3 when it first came out.&nbsp;</span><br /><span style="background-color: white; color: #4b4b4b; font-family: &quot;verdana&quot; , &quot;geneva&quot; , sans-serif; font-size: 15.84px;">Wonder if our children remember the song... Good question.</span><br /><div class="separator" style="background-color: white; clear: both; color: #4b4b4b; font-family: verdana, geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 15.84px; text-align: center;"></div><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #4b4b4b; font-family: &quot;verdana&quot; , &quot;geneva&quot; , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 15.84px;">[One year my daughter's church ward had a funny nativity scene at their church party.&nbsp; I was almost falling off my seat laughing at the antics of the shepherds&nbsp;and angels. Somethings never change. ]&nbsp;</span></span></span><br /><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #4b4b4b; font-family: &quot;verdana&quot; , &quot;geneva&quot; , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 15.84px;">This is a <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DG3_Ihj0CYI">link to the song</a> done by Karen Carpenter on YouTube.&nbsp;</span></span></span><br /><span style="color: #4b4b4b; font-family: verdana, geneva, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 15.84px;">Have a wonderful Merry Christmas my friends.</span></span><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-GMh_i0Smt-0/WFoqwgyxJeI/AAAAAAAAZv8/n5UOv81bnZMujozYcGaJT9iRL6l6svZEgCLcB/s1600/angel%2Bplay.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-GMh_i0Smt-0/WFoqwgyxJeI/AAAAAAAAZv8/n5UOv81bnZMujozYcGaJT9iRL6l6svZEgCLcB/s400/angel%2Bplay.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><span style="color: #4b4b4b; font-family: verdana, geneva, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 15.84px;"><b><br /></b></span></span></div>http://branchingoutthroughtheyears.blogspot.com/2016/12/blog-caroling-favorite-time-of-year.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (Fran Ellsworth)0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6799118134852549463.post-3234149488733185805Mon, 28 Nov 2016 23:04:00 +00002016-11-28T22:28:22.171-06:00Family GatheringsGenealogy Blog PartyHero memory.TraditionsFamily Traditions of the Past: A Hero Story in the Making.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br />Little Bytes of Life was a life saver. Her <a href="http://www.littlebytesoflife.com/">Genealogy Blog Party</a>, gave me the push I needed to get back to my blog. Without further a do... on with the story...<br /><br />When the Hero and I were married, my parents lived in Oklahoma and his parents were 30 minutes away. &nbsp;My mother-in-law sat down and talked with me and it was decided that the holidays would be split. Reminds me of how my daughter who is divorced has their holidays split. One year it would be Thanksgiving at Oklahoma one year and Christmas at Houston, then the next it would be reversed. This continued all the years of my children's growing up.<br />The trips to Oklahoma were always more that just a trip to see my parents. It would then be, on Thanksgiving day, a two hour trip from Edmond up to Pawnee. There we visited my two aunts and uncle. Fabulous memories. The Hero developed relationships with my dad's family which led to letters and sharing of memories. Things I didn't fully realize at the time would be so valuable now. I wish he were here with his fun mind to tell the stories. The gatherings were very informal. To my knowledge (note to self, as mom) no one assigned the side dishes, everyone brought what was their favorite. As they came in they would put their dish on the table with the rest of the spread of food. When the main meat dish was ready, &nbsp;people filed in and loaded up their plates, then found a spot to sit and eat. The men loved the football games same as now, and there were hunting stories from their excursions earlier in the morning. There was one draw back. Due to a family spat, we would go and visit each of my dad's siblings separately. &nbsp;When I was growing up, it was all his siblings together with their kids in tow. Now, those were really the unruly days.<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yW2IHTs4nZs/WDyyxUruBuI/AAAAAAAAZlw/rTOTO_LpwaUDlHFddZfEVdYk6cx-W45mwCEw/s1600/Bill%2Band%2BJana%2BPinkerton%2BSwisher%2Bwith%2BAine%2BEllsworth%2Bat%2BPawnee%252C%2BDora%2527s%2Bbackporch%2Boff%2Bkitchen.tif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="311" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yW2IHTs4nZs/WDyyxUruBuI/AAAAAAAAZlw/rTOTO_LpwaUDlHFddZfEVdYk6cx-W45mwCEw/s320/Bill%2Band%2BJana%2BPinkerton%2BSwisher%2Bwith%2BAine%2BEllsworth%2Bat%2BPawnee%252C%2BDora%2527s%2Bbackporch%2Boff%2Bkitchen.tif" width="320" /></a></div>A special love of his was my Uncle Ed. Oh my, they would out tell each other in how things were. I unfortunately followed the &nbsp;trend and went in and sat with my mom and aunt and we would talk about who was where and doing what.<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-DuyIBx0X2zs/WDyys5o3eII/AAAAAAAAZls/Xxl5rJBLLQkTcTAG6VPyJysjnFHBRuD6wCLcB/s1600/ned%2Bed%2BLangley%2BLester%2BLangley%2BEd%2527s%2Bkitchen%2BPawnee.tif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="311" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-DuyIBx0X2zs/WDyys5o3eII/AAAAAAAAZls/Xxl5rJBLLQkTcTAG6VPyJysjnFHBRuD6wCLcB/s320/ned%2Bed%2BLangley%2BLester%2BLangley%2BEd%2527s%2Bkitchen%2BPawnee.tif" width="320" /></a></div>When we went to Houston, it was so different. &nbsp;The Hero's mom had a beautiful table setting, and my father-in- law would carve the turkey or ham depending on the holiday. He had 3 siblings, later 4, a foster daughter, and included at first were his father's mom and uncle's family of &nbsp;5. I was and only child. These gathering were somewhat overwhelming at first for me, because of the formality of the setting. She even would have settings later for card playing... Bridge. I do not play.<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Qqk63MhNlcs/WDyzUlko9ZI/AAAAAAAAZl0/RnJPd-DladMAGogTJ4lEk1hlirMPoZMMQCLcB/s1600/MildredsettingChristmas.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="235" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Qqk63MhNlcs/WDyzUlko9ZI/AAAAAAAAZl0/RnJPd-DladMAGogTJ4lEk1hlirMPoZMMQCLcB/s320/MildredsettingChristmas.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>My mentor mother-in-law once sat with me and told me, it was her mother-in-law who was her mentor because she had grown up as I had, going and visiting a big unruly family and they did not do formal dining. One of my daughters took her grandmother's example to heart and when you attend her holiday dinner, it is one of formality. Others grabbed a page out of my history and they are much more informal. <br />Both family gatherings are wonderful. The most important part is the family coming together and the children of those family making connections. If allowed and nurtured, the relationships built will continue when the older generation is gone. That is what we are now working on in our family, hope it sticks. The second and very important thing coming from the gatherings are pictures.<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-1WNzDb4aQ_k/WDy0LD_qVDI/AAAAAAAAZmA/eDyE-Q-CsloExVRPRk5fAecKQFXJVbjwQCLcB/s1600/Ellsworth%2B1984.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="214" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-1WNzDb4aQ_k/WDy0LD_qVDI/AAAAAAAAZmA/eDyE-Q-CsloExVRPRk5fAecKQFXJVbjwQCLcB/s320/Ellsworth%2B1984.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><br /></div>http://branchingoutthroughtheyears.blogspot.com/2016/11/family-traditions-of-past-hero-story-in.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (Fran Ellsworth)6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6799118134852549463.post-3334999632616863709Mon, 25 Jan 2016 16:51:00 +00002016-01-25T10:51:39.415-06:00A bit of funA Hero Storya late Sentimental Sunday post.job eventsRottweilerThe Hero and the Rottweiler ~ Sentimental Sunday (thought of then.)<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-g7-uQfeMc_M/VqZQ8tzw2wI/AAAAAAAAUgc/nbvO4mXIG3Q/s1600/Ned%2Bink%2Bsketch.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="275" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-g7-uQfeMc_M/VqZQ8tzw2wI/AAAAAAAAUgc/nbvO4mXIG3Q/s320/Ned%2Bink%2Bsketch.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />The Hero did flooring jobs to supplement his day time job income. His primary workers were his family members. <br />This one job was for a doctor resurfacing a second floor patio above the first floor patio. &nbsp;Everyone was excited and thought, this will be a fast easy job. <br />The doctor had a pet Rottweiler. &nbsp;He looked like this dog.<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-9HCbaAe7Mpc/VqZRK2zqEXI/AAAAAAAAUgk/Fj8BMwqrg98/s1600/Rottweiler3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-9HCbaAe7Mpc/VqZRK2zqEXI/AAAAAAAAUgk/Fj8BMwqrg98/s320/Rottweiler3.jpg" width="239" /></a></div>&nbsp;A beautiful healthy, happy, big dog. &nbsp;The guys were apprehensive at first about how he would accept them, but soon found him to be friendly and funny, because he would run up the stairs to greet them then his claws would slip on the wood floor and he would end up in all sorts of positions, and gyrations trying to get in control. &nbsp;No one minded his presence, until... they noticed tools would go missing. &nbsp;He would come out get petted and when they turned back to work, he would pick up a tool, tape, what ever was sitting there unattended, and quietly slip back inside. &nbsp;This started causing lost time because the guys would have to go looking for the item, and would find it with their friend the dog. It ended in him being banned from the area, and them keeping a watchful eye in case someone would forget to close the door. &nbsp;He was then such a sad dog looking longingly out the door.<br />The Hero laughed telling the story and loved petting the Rottweiler when he was there. The guys would hoot and laugh talking about his antics. &nbsp;All in all, the Rottweiler made the job a fun one that had good memories.<br /><br />1. Image,&nbsp;<a class="internal" href="https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/7/7a/Rottweiler3.jpg" style="background: none rgb(255, 255, 255); color: #0b0080; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.4px;" title="Rottweiler3.jpg">Rottweiler3.jpg</a><span style="background-color: white; color: #252525; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.4px;">&nbsp;,&nbsp;</span><span style="color: #252525; font-family: sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.4px;">https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Rottweiler3.jpg</span></span><br /><span style="color: #252525; font-family: sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.4px;"><br /></span></span></div>http://branchingoutthroughtheyears.blogspot.com/2016/01/the-hero-and-rottweiler-sentimental.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (Fran Ellsworth)1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6799118134852549463.post-8693267724940918910Mon, 07 Dec 2015 00:37:00 +00002015-12-06T18:40:01.420-06:00Advent Calendar of Christmas Memories Religious ServicesChristFamilySearch Memories.I believeTestimonyChristmas ~ My Testimony of Jesus Christ, the Son of God<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;">As I was contemplating my Christmas post, I was broadsided by a health affliction that left me in painful dark places reaching up for help. &nbsp;One night, I wrestled almost the entire night with my feelings and thoughts until the Lord and I came to an agreement it was time to write my testimony for the future generations of my family.</span><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-g8ZpCWF7taY/VmTCzy3hC5I/AAAAAAAAThY/csYtoVyddM8/s1600/Ellsworth%2BNed%2BReligious%2Bbeginnings.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-g8ZpCWF7taY/VmTCzy3hC5I/AAAAAAAAThY/csYtoVyddM8/s320/Ellsworth%2BNed%2BReligious%2Bbeginnings.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It started with parents that had been taught of Christ.</td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;">My children have never known our home without Christ, but that doesn't mean that they didn't have to develop their own testimony. That is what one does. &nbsp;You can't go on other's testimonies for all your life, at one point; you must develop your own. Over time my testimony of Christ and his divine mission has grown until it is just like breathing for me. It is me.</span><br /><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;">I will begin with what took a time for me to understand as my testimony was developing. I wondered, "How did God feel when he observed the atonement of Christ in Gethsemane?" &nbsp;Then I wondered about how He felt when he withdrew himself from Christ while His son was facing the last hours during the Crucifixion. &nbsp;I am not a Prophet or biblical scholar, just a child of God and a mother, so I am sure my perspective must come from there. &nbsp;I felt as I was wrestling that night, that what God felt was gratitude. &nbsp;Not pride in his Son, but gratitude for Christ facing his personal challenge and bearing it without being coerced and a pressured into those actions. Christ did his Father's will because it was his desire to do so and because he loved us. Christ embraced his Father, us, and the plan of Happiness in his actions, which testified to me that his actions were, in truth, a sacrifice.</span><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-RZEIl2CvYRQ/VmTPzklqToI/AAAAAAAATho/CtFl4TpfJoI/s1600/Christ_in_Gethsemane.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-RZEIl2CvYRQ/VmTPzklqToI/AAAAAAAATho/CtFl4TpfJoI/s320/Christ_in_Gethsemane.jpg" width="228" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Christ in Gethsemane" by Heinrich Hofmann - Brigham Young University Museum of Art.1.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-R6NPMMdx6YI/VmTQkfNy5II/AAAAAAAATh0/4NZv_020Lg0/s1600/Christ_at_the_Cross_-_Cristo_en_la_Cruz.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-R6NPMMdx6YI/VmTQkfNy5II/AAAAAAAATh0/4NZv_020Lg0/s320/Christ_at_the_Cross_-_Cristo_en_la_Cruz.jpg" width="262" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Christ at the Cross - Cristo en la Cruz" by Carl Heinrich Bloch 2.</td></tr></tbody></table><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;">It all began on a night in Bethlehem when Christ came to this earth to be born to Mary in a lowly stable. Such a lovely tale, and I have crèches that I have collected to commemorate that event. &nbsp;</span><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-9tyGCT3684g/TP-1VOrLIMI/AAAAAAAAJMI/LaNq28Xr_tY/s1600/Reason%2Bfor%2Bthe%2Bseasonblogsize.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-9tyGCT3684g/TP-1VOrLIMI/AAAAAAAAJMI/LaNq28Xr_tY/s400/Reason%2Bfor%2Bthe%2Bseasonblogsize.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;">God did not abandon Christ when he came to earth. He sent angels to guide and protect this family of Joseph, Mary, and Christ from the beginning. God is always with us.&nbsp;</span><br /><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;">The babe in the manger that was Christ the Savior has been my friend and has always been the person for me to go to since I was little. &nbsp;I remember seeking places to sit and talk with Jesus (another of Christ's names) when I was as young as 5 years old. If there were problems I didn't know how to deal with, I knew He was always there and listening. The comfort, the unfailing care, and the guidance I have received over the years, has never left me found wanting and always His footsteps has been a chosen path to follow.</span><br /><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;">I not only believe in Christ, I know He is there. &nbsp;He cares for me, and He takes my up lifted hands and guides me. &nbsp;He lives. &nbsp;He is The Savior. &nbsp;He is my all.</span><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;">This is my Christmas testimony which I will save in&nbsp;</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;">Memories on FamilySearch for when my blog is long gone.&nbsp;</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;">~Frances Ellsworth</span></div><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;"><br /></span><br /><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td class="tr-caption"><div style="font-size: 12.8px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: 12.8px;">1. &nbsp;</span><span style="font-size: 12.8px;">Licensed under Public Domain via Commons - https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Christ_in_Gethsemane.jpg#/media/</span><br /><span style="font-size: 12.8px;">File:Christ_in_Gethsemane.jpg</span></div><div style="font-size: 12.8px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: 12.8px;"><br /></span></div><div style="font-size: 12.8px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: 12.8px;">2.</span><span style="font-size: 12.8px; text-align: center;">&nbsp;</span><span style="font-size: 12.8px; text-align: center;">&nbsp;Licensed under Public Domain via Commons -&nbsp;</span></div><div style="font-size: 12.8px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: 12.8px; text-align: center;">https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Christ_at_the_Cross_-_Cristo_en_la_Cruz.jpg#/media/File:Christ_at_the_Cross_-_Cristo_en_la_Cruz.jpg</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: &quot;georgia&quot; , &quot;times new roman&quot; , serif;"><br /></span></div>http://branchingoutthroughtheyears.blogspot.com/2015/12/christmas-my-testimony-of-jesus-christ.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (Fran Ellsworth)5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6799118134852549463.post-1276740376494525675Thu, 12 Nov 2015 04:40:00 +00002015-11-11T22:40:14.711-06:00Lester LangleyVeteran's DayWordlesss WednesdayWordless Wednesday ~ Body Language<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-wPdh_qnYQbU/VkQXCuzhoII/AAAAAAAATRk/HxIQBRIlTE0/s1600/Langley%2Blester%2BFrance%2Bsgt.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-wPdh_qnYQbU/VkQXCuzhoII/AAAAAAAATRk/HxIQBRIlTE0/s400/Langley%2Blester%2BFrance%2Bsgt.jpg" width="272" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Celebrating Veteran's Day 2015 My dad in Europe WWII</td></tr></tbody></table><br /></div>http://branchingoutthroughtheyears.blogspot.com/2015/11/wordless-wednesday-body-language.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (Fran Ellsworth)0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6799118134852549463.post-7770852639981000176Tue, 10 Nov 2015 18:04:00 +00002015-11-10T12:04:04.520-06:00Ed LangleyEthel Grote Langleyfamilies together.Tombstone TuesdayTombstone Tuesday ~ Ed Langley and Ethel Grote<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">Near last week's tombstone was my Aunt and Uncle. &nbsp;Edwin R Langley was the brother of my father and Dora Langley... (she will be for next week).<br /><br />My cousin and I had been talking about family history via email. &nbsp;In our conversations were discussions about tombstones. &nbsp;He decided he wanted to personalize his parent's tombstone with a picture. &nbsp;He did some study on it and this was his final email on the subject.<br />"<span style="background-color: white; color: #1f497d; font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 16px;">Dad purchased the cemetery lots and this stone about 5+ years before he died.&nbsp; He put a lot of thought into the stone and was very proud of the fact he got it done.&nbsp; I have always been amazed at the pictures on some of the older stones</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 16px;">&nbsp;that are always very clear and never seem to fade even when facing the sun…..recently I found out that the reason for never fading is because they are ceramic (imagine that!!!!).&nbsp;&nbsp; Recently I sent you a pic that I took from a portriat that was taken when mom and dad were in their mid-40's which they both liked.&nbsp; I have decided to add a ceramic pic to the headstone &nbsp;using the one I sent you…..I think they would approve."</span><br /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 16px;">I agreed. I think they would have been greatly pleased.</span><br /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 16px;"><br /></span><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-SXpMUt99_m0/VkIxYCw9DqI/AAAAAAAATMw/-ApivX9GM5c/s1600/ed%2Band%2Bethel.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-SXpMUt99_m0/VkIxYCw9DqI/AAAAAAAATMw/-ApivX9GM5c/s320/ed%2Band%2Bethel.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The picture he chose.</td></tr></tbody></table><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 16px;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 16px;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-gxUbL_bau48/VkIwkV3doKI/AAAAAAAATMo/ZpyydwunI9s/s1600/Langley%2Bed%2Bethel%2Bfinished%2Btombstone.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-gxUbL_bau48/VkIwkV3doKI/AAAAAAAATMo/ZpyydwunI9s/s400/Langley%2Bed%2Bethel%2Bfinished%2Btombstone.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ethel is the Daughter of &nbsp;George and Hattie Grote</td></tr></tbody></table><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 16px;"><br /></span></div>http://branchingoutthroughtheyears.blogspot.com/2015/11/tombstone-tuesday-ed-langley-and-ethel.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (Fran Ellsworth)0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6799118134852549463.post-8521692675132342967Fri, 06 Nov 2015 05:30:00 +00002015-11-05T23:30:43.842-06:00grandchildrenJewelsTreasure Chest ThursdayTreasure Chest Thursday ~ Grandchild Number 3<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br /><div style="text-align: center;">Bright and shining Copper Top...</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qOSSimiOz14/VjwrJR3l3DI/AAAAAAAATDE/ecbGsAlza1o/s1600/Suzy%2BQ%2BBaby%2BPrincess.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qOSSimiOz14/VjwrJR3l3DI/AAAAAAAATDE/ecbGsAlza1o/s400/Suzy%2BQ%2BBaby%2BPrincess.jpg" width="228" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Princess Dynamo... She was always moving.<br />This is <a href="http://branchingoutthroughtheyears.blogspot.com/2011/11/sentimental-sunday-hero-helped-save-his.html">the story of &nbsp;the Hero helping save her</a>.&nbsp;</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-1DZugvnGoog/VjwtuGz_vNI/AAAAAAAATDQ/4iwmO10ztTg/s1600/suz%2Band%2Bsean.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-1DZugvnGoog/VjwtuGz_vNI/AAAAAAAATDQ/4iwmO10ztTg/s320/suz%2Band%2Bsean.JPG" width="216" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">She had a special relationship with her uncle.<br />He loved watching her and had a way with helping with getting her to take a nap.</td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Fy4_nFj78qM/VjwxCO7dLUI/AAAAAAAATDk/UmebLH_IIc8/s1600/Schulmire%2BSuzie.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Fy4_nFj78qM/VjwxCO7dLUI/AAAAAAAATDk/UmebLH_IIc8/s320/Schulmire%2BSuzie.jpg" width="217" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This was one of my favorite studio pictures of her. <br />She did not grow up to be a phone person.</td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-S-9n6cNwsgc/VjwzC04srwI/AAAAAAAATDs/nQjrBIKU-z0/s1600/suz%2B6.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-S-9n6cNwsgc/VjwzC04srwI/AAAAAAAATDs/nQjrBIKU-z0/s320/suz%2B6.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Her 6th birthday. She was flexible with celebrations. Look at that copper hair.</td></tr></tbody></table><div style="text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-JOGWm4pIn88/VjwwypW4hXI/AAAAAAAATDc/4Raoucmw4gg/s1600/suz%2Bat%2Bedwards%2Bwed.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-JOGWm4pIn88/VjwwypW4hXI/AAAAAAAATDc/4Raoucmw4gg/s320/suz%2Bat%2Bedwards%2Bwed.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Always animated... Here she is at her uncle's wedding and freezing. <br />&nbsp;If she had to smile she would give it her best.</td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-7yVaMDidh3Q/Vjw1VB1cLXI/AAAAAAAATD4/2O9DUSCpjuk/s1600/susie%2Bmedia%2Bcard.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-7yVaMDidh3Q/Vjw1VB1cLXI/AAAAAAAATD4/2O9DUSCpjuk/s320/susie%2Bmedia%2Bcard.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">She became quite the multi media artist. &nbsp;</td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-SQJAMGbSytU/Vjw1jY3pCJI/AAAAAAAATEA/7T9w8ic9YVs/s1600/suz%2B2010%2Bdec.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-SQJAMGbSytU/Vjw1jY3pCJI/AAAAAAAATEA/7T9w8ic9YVs/s320/suz%2B2010%2Bdec.jpg" width="256" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">2010 such a sweetheart.<br />&nbsp;She sings and helps. <br />A naturally good person.</td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-VxeRUhVx0Aw/Vjw2DtkLdmI/AAAAAAAATEI/3fdlcvRdsGw/s1600/susie%2Bmermaid%2Bcostume%2B2014.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-VxeRUhVx0Aw/Vjw2DtkLdmI/AAAAAAAATEI/3fdlcvRdsGw/s320/susie%2Bmermaid%2Bcostume%2B2014.jpg" width="296" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">She asked if I could make her a mermaid costume in 2014, <br />then she decided that she could do it herself. <br />What a great job she did.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-xCMxGkVMZ04/Vjw2JPorCwI/AAAAAAAATEQ/5WqlMLTOnTc/s1600/suz%2Bin%2Bplays%2B2015.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-xCMxGkVMZ04/Vjw2JPorCwI/AAAAAAAATEQ/5WqlMLTOnTc/s320/suz%2Bin%2Bplays%2B2015.jpg" width="285" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">She has started performing with a local theater group.<br />She sings and dances.<br />Her personality sparkles</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-BXWdRePz0fg/Vjw2WG-mPwI/AAAAAAAATEY/H3pxxRAtYJI/s1600/Susie%2Bfb%2Bcoversm.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-BXWdRePz0fg/Vjw2WG-mPwI/AAAAAAAATEY/H3pxxRAtYJI/s320/Susie%2Bfb%2Bcoversm.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is her scrapbook page I made especially for her.<br />I adore being with her.<br /><br />May you all enjoy your Treasures.</td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><span id="goog_1284829035"></span><span id="goog_1284829036"></span><br /></div></div>http://branchingoutthroughtheyears.blogspot.com/2015/11/treasure-chest-thursday-grandchild.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (Fran Ellsworth)0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6799118134852549463.post-1590941937827993415Thu, 05 Nov 2015 05:43:00 +00002015-11-04T23:43:50.941-06:00ChildrenNational FlagWordless Wednesday ~ What We Support<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7Zo0R-CnwOo/Vjrr5AMrrzI/AAAAAAAATBQ/m0Ds2hUJRqs/s1600/ryn%2BJune%2B19.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="363" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7Zo0R-CnwOo/Vjrr5AMrrzI/AAAAAAAATBQ/m0Ds2hUJRqs/s400/ryn%2BJune%2B19.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /></div>http://branchingoutthroughtheyears.blogspot.com/2015/11/wordless-wednesday-what-we-support.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (Fran Ellsworth)0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6799118134852549463.post-4334980285774248756Tue, 03 Nov 2015 21:05:00 +00002015-11-03T15:05:58.409-06:00Edward GroteEthel Grote LangleyfamilyTombstone TuesdayTombstone Tuesday<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">A post by Amy Johnson Crow took me to my cemetery pictures to see if I was following her <a href="http://www.amyjohnsoncrow.com/2015/11/03/5-photos-you-should-take-at-the-cemetery/">"5 Photos You Should Take at the Cemetery"</a></span><br /><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I was good. &nbsp;Whew. &nbsp;Want to make sure time is not wasted when making the trip and stop.</span><br /><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Below is the picture of my Aunt and Uncle's Parents. &nbsp;My dad's brother and sister married a brother and sister. &nbsp;Those are for easy genealogy lines.&nbsp;</span><span style="font-family: Wingdings; font-size: 18pt; line-height: 107%;">J</span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 107%;">I was looking for their tombstones, which I did get, when I noticed most of the Grote family is buried in close proximity, I went ahead a grabbed a picture of &nbsp;the parents tombstone.</span><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-s9OrXAXMXjM/Vjkc6e724zI/AAAAAAAAS84/eKn-OPkcUtY/s1600/grote%2B%2Brelated%2Bto%2BEthel%2Band%2BEd.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-s9OrXAXMXjM/Vjkc6e724zI/AAAAAAAAS84/eKn-OPkcUtY/s400/grote%2B%2Brelated%2Bto%2BEthel%2Band%2BEd.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tombstone for George and Hattie Grote and their son Delbert.</td></tr></tbody></table>A close up:&nbsp;<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-s51bOr27kig/VjkgZlH7p_I/AAAAAAAAS9Y/DMwP8Wro5h8/s1600/grote%2B%2Brelated%2Bto%2BEthel%2Band%2BEd%2Bclose.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="167" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-s51bOr27kig/VjkgZlH7p_I/AAAAAAAAS9Y/DMwP8Wro5h8/s400/grote%2B%2Brelated%2Bto%2BEthel%2Band%2BEd%2Bclose.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div><br />I made sure I could read the epitaph.<br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-913todps3bw/VjkecPdpl1I/AAAAAAAAS9E/sgJe-qp_fuk/s1600/grote%2B%2Brelated%2Bto%2BEthel%2Band%2BEd%2Bepitaph.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="64" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-913todps3bw/VjkecPdpl1I/AAAAAAAAS9E/sgJe-qp_fuk/s320/grote%2B%2Brelated%2Bto%2BEthel%2Band%2BEd%2Bepitaph.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"At rest but not forgotten"<br /><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div></td></tr></tbody></table>The cemetery sign was a must since a huge number of my dad's family is buried there.<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-T1eEsPbmKAU/Vjkf10wGGlI/AAAAAAAAS9U/HzdhVMzuE3Y/s1600/Highland%2BCemetery.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="223" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-T1eEsPbmKAU/Vjkf10wGGlI/AAAAAAAAS9U/HzdhVMzuE3Y/s320/Highland%2BCemetery.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I went a little back wards at this, but I did the work. Happy Tombstone Day,</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">This is for Kenny and his cousins.</div><br /></div></div>http://branchingoutthroughtheyears.blogspot.com/2015/11/tombstone-tuesday.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (Fran Ellsworth)0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6799118134852549463.post-1413342574558649685Tue, 03 Nov 2015 05:33:00 +00002015-11-03T07:50:29.431-06:00#genealogyMadness MondayMary HankinsMissouri FamilypuzzlesReuben McCroskieSamuel GreenMadness Monday ~ Why Can't I Leave It Alone.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">I am choosing to write about that which I have a tendency to do. &nbsp;I will come across a descendant in my family line that doesn't have a death date or any other information. &nbsp;I become distracted from my own &nbsp;direct line and begin searching to make sure everything is filled in for that person. Of course, that tends to send me off down other rabbit holes as Carol of the blog Reflections from the Fence says.<br />Today, I began to research a sister of my great great grandmother. Her name was Mary Hankins. I found she married a Reuben McCroskie, whose surname had been slaughtered in almost every census and ages messed up. &nbsp;I soon found their child Nancy's, who turned out to go by Ellen, married a Samuel Green in Ray County, Missouri and her line was not finished. &nbsp;Now these are from the 1830s up so most I would expect some to be done. &nbsp;I am not finished yet, but one young lady intrigued me... Phyllis J Holmes.<br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-MGmRRQunnwY/VjhFrKZKtsI/AAAAAAAAS8A/MVj4cii87w4/s1600/Phyllis%2BHolmes%2B1942%2BKansas%2BWeslean%2BUniversity%2Byearbook.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-MGmRRQunnwY/VjhFrKZKtsI/AAAAAAAAS8A/MVj4cii87w4/s1600/Phyllis%2BHolmes%2B1942%2BKansas%2BWeslean%2BUniversity%2Byearbook.JPG" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Phyllis Holmes 1942 Yearbook picture</td></tr></tbody></table>&nbsp;Her mother the daughter of Nancy Ellen McCroskie Green, Beatrice Helen who married a Clayton P Holmes. &nbsp;Beatrice died at 24 of Tuberculosis. &nbsp;Leaving Phyllis who was 2, motherless. &nbsp;I do not know who raised her because I not found her yet on a census with her father who remarried. He was a pharmaceutical salesman and he married a pharmacist. I did find Phyllis went to college at &nbsp;Kansas Wesleyan University and found a picture of her, as well as who she married. Unfortunately, it was in a time period, I do not know if she ever had children. &nbsp;She died in 1973 in Los Angeles, California; her husband remarried and moved to Oklahoma. &nbsp;No clues. &nbsp;I hope if she did have children, they will be joined with her tree. <br />Beatrice opened another dilemma for me as her obit names a brother Bud Green.<br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-HwEXn_fJhuI/VjhF6I1v1kI/AAAAAAAAS8I/GWtpu-5ADgg/s1600/Beatrice%2BHelen%2BGreen%2Bdeath%2Bscrap%2Bwith%2Bobit.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-HwEXn_fJhuI/VjhF6I1v1kI/AAAAAAAAS8I/GWtpu-5ADgg/s320/Beatrice%2BHelen%2BGreen%2Bdeath%2Bscrap%2Bwith%2Bobit.png" width="316" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Beatrice death certificate and obit</td></tr></tbody></table>Another one I have not found on the census. Wonder if Bud was a nickname. &nbsp;Well, still working on that rabbit hole. &nbsp;Need to stop and do some work as I have been at this all day. <br />Genealogy throws you curves. &nbsp;<span style="font-family: &quot;wingdings&quot;; font-size: 18pt; line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: red;">J</span></span></div>http://branchingoutthroughtheyears.blogspot.com/2015/11/madness-monday-why-cant-i-leave-it-alone.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (Fran Ellsworth)2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6799118134852549463.post-8552838688634597547Mon, 02 Nov 2015 04:39:00 +00002015-11-01T22:42:42.505-06:00A Hero StoryBeautymemoriesSentimental SundayStop and smell the roses.Sentimental Sunday ~ Memory of A Great Trip<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">One fall, the Hero and I were driving our daughter to Utah for her fall college semester. &nbsp;We decided to go through Taos, New Mexico area because none of us had ever been in that area before and the scenery promised by brochures was going to be great. <br /><div>We stopped at an out of the way group of bungalows before we got there. &nbsp;It was an awesome place. There weren't any electronics, or phones, no outside world at all. &nbsp;Our son was with us too. He was so excited no one could interrupt with a phone call. &nbsp;We and a wonderful time visiting; they had games too and the kids went for a short hike. (nope no pictures...silly me, but no smartphones back then either.) Short digression here, I asked my daughter if she remembered and I am giggling over her answer: &nbsp;"Yes, I remember him going on and on about how quiet it was... he wouldn't be quiet.... it was lovely and I remember the cold creek out behind it."...</div><div>When we left to continue our journey, we were relaxed and filled with happiness. &nbsp;The trees were breathtaking and the air was so clear as we drove in the mountains. The Hero gave way to our request to stop at the first scenic pull over in spite of a tight schedule. It was so beautiful looking down through the trees.<br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-o3T7Yo5X_9g/Vjbkh7yg8xI/AAAAAAAAS7o/gu3eoS8ZuwA/s1600/PA023813.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="207" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-o3T7Yo5X_9g/Vjbkh7yg8xI/AAAAAAAAS7o/gu3eoS8ZuwA/s400/PA023813.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We saw these. This is from a brochure.</td></tr></tbody></table></div><div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-1lX-P0gqszM/VjbkJFiicyI/AAAAAAAAS7g/BCG14nOKR7Y/s1600/Fall_colors_Tres_piedras_NM.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-1lX-P0gqszM/VjbkJFiicyI/AAAAAAAAS7g/BCG14nOKR7Y/s400/Fall_colors_Tres_piedras_NM.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">picture from the area on Wikipedia</td></tr></tbody></table></div><div>&nbsp;Away from the world and all its cares, my daughter turned on the Enya "Watermark" album for her and myself to dance our best joyful uninhibited interpretation of the music. &nbsp;We were having so much fun. Our son and the Hero, just leaned back on the rocks and smiled. &nbsp;They knew we were silly. &nbsp;</div><div>Our reverie was interrupted by a car pulling in behind us and an older Native American gentleman got out. &nbsp;We quickly turned down our music, when he approached us. &nbsp;I guess we were expecting a scolding for so much noise. &nbsp;Instead, we were surprised when he said &nbsp;"I have not stopped here for many years and enjoyed the scenery. &nbsp;When I saw you dancing with so much joy, I had to stop. I remind myself now, that I should take the time to enjoy what is here. Thank you for reminding me." &nbsp;</div><div>We never know how we are going to affect someone else. This man was uplifted by our joyous dancing and he reminded us that one should not ignore the beauty around us as we become busy in life. &nbsp;</div><div>The rest of our trip was filled with a feeling of happiness. &nbsp;We deposited our daughter at BYU and then drove back home on I70 through Colorado. The choice to drive up the scenic way was one of the best we ever made. &nbsp;</div><div>I am glad I am writing this because my daughter had forgotten our dancing in the woods..,</div><div>Don't forget to stop and smell the roses... one of my favorite sayings. &nbsp;<span style="font-family: &quot;wingdings&quot;; font-size: 36pt; line-height: 107%; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: yellow;">J</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 36.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><o:p></o:p></span></div></div>http://branchingoutthroughtheyears.blogspot.com/2015/11/sentimental-sunday-memory-of-great-trip.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (Fran Ellsworth)0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6799118134852549463.post-5863990701197942132Fri, 30 Oct 2015 20:35:00 +00002015-10-30T15:35:46.125-05:00#familyhistoryHalloweenmemoriesHalloween Memories...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">My mom loved Halloween. &nbsp;She was one of the first teachers at her school in Oklahoma to start dressing in period costumes for the festivities. &nbsp;Of course it was a different era, the kids dressed up, parents brought cupcakes, there were parades, and there was in general a lot of games. &nbsp;As I was growing up, she always had popcorn balls (in a variety of ways), candy, etc. &nbsp;I had to dress up to had out candy to those coming by.<br />When she moved to Texas, she was living in a rural community. &nbsp;There wasn't the going from house to house for trick or treat but there were a lot of little kids that wanted to do what they saw city kids doing. As a school they still did costumes and a class party, but the whole community turned out at the precinct barn where a special group had put together a variety of activities and treats. &nbsp;Mom loved this and was disappointed when the activities started coming to a close at school, then in the community at large. &nbsp;Now they do a haunted house, which I have to say, I am glad all my kids are gone, because I have never been a fan of haunted house activities. &nbsp;Here is the only picture I have of my mom's Halloween activity.<br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-lJ1e9SHlOWQ/VjPBgAdNIaI/AAAAAAAAS6k/D000zj6ils0/s1600/NedChristinaAineGrandmaL1980.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="310" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-lJ1e9SHlOWQ/VjPBgAdNIaI/AAAAAAAAS6k/D000zj6ils0/s400/NedChristinaAineGrandmaL1980.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">She is the "scarecrow" in the center, surrounded by my children.</td></tr></tbody></table>My mother-in-law always decorated for Halloween time. &nbsp;She would have fun handing out candy for the kids in the neighborhood. Her foster daughter loved the dressing up and handing out candy too.<br />When Mildred moved into an assisted living home, they had activities every year. &nbsp;We would go down and participate with her. She would dress up and so would we. &nbsp;Such a fun memory. <br />These are a few of her dressed up as well as my sister in law and brother in law.<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-TMHv2zI35to/VjPOlTB-y2I/AAAAAAAAS68/3d8bJschIks/s1600/Ellsworth%2Bmildred%2Bhalloween%2Bat%2Bassisted%2Bliving.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-TMHv2zI35to/VjPOlTB-y2I/AAAAAAAAS68/3d8bJschIks/s400/Ellsworth%2Bmildred%2Bhalloween%2Bat%2Bassisted%2Bliving.jpg" width="265" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One year she decorated her door then dressed up and handed out candy when kids came by.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-0vAKZc5zax0/VjPQHaCvcbI/AAAAAAAAS7I/FbvJuDxCEYU/s1600/Ellsworth%2BHalloween%2BOct2010%2BJean%2Bwins%2Bcostume%2Bcontest..jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-0vAKZc5zax0/VjPQHaCvcbI/AAAAAAAAS7I/FbvJuDxCEYU/s320/Ellsworth%2BHalloween%2BOct2010%2BJean%2Bwins%2Bcostume%2Bcontest..jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My wonderful sister-in-law who was game for anything, and looked great too. (she is in the middle)</td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Z20fa0XaVHc/TMpUKrQa9rI/AAAAAAAABzw/H0KBmPt0jpU/s1600/Halloween%2BOct2010%2BJean%2Bwins.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Z20fa0XaVHc/TMpUKrQa9rI/AAAAAAAABzw/H0KBmPt0jpU/s400/Halloween%2BOct2010%2BJean%2Bwins.jpg" width="166" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A close up of my sister-in-law</td></tr></tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Sux4il8SMNo/TMpU2jTcG4I/AAAAAAAAJqA/YgTRjH4Sgbc/s1600/Halloween%2BOct2010%2BMomE%2Band%2BTed.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="267" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Sux4il8SMNo/TMpU2jTcG4I/AAAAAAAAJqA/YgTRjH4Sgbc/s400/Halloween%2BOct2010%2BMomE%2Band%2BTed.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mildred and her son,,. My grandson thought his mask was cool.&nbsp;</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-eEHCw3I0VAk/TMpTna9lX3I/AAAAAAAABzo/k9G57svtskQ/s1600/Halloween%2BOct%2B2010%2BMomE%2Band%2BMe.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-eEHCw3I0VAk/TMpTna9lX3I/AAAAAAAABzo/k9G57svtskQ/s400/Halloween%2BOct%2B2010%2BMomE%2Band%2BMe.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mildred and I, in another year. &nbsp;She decorated her tee shirt.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">Fun memories and ones I hold dear.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /></div>http://branchingoutthroughtheyears.blogspot.com/2015/10/halloween-memories.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (Fran Ellsworth)0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6799118134852549463.post-3935326723509413606Fri, 30 Oct 2015 05:31:00 +00002015-10-30T00:31:59.433-05:00Granddaughter.Loving my grandchildrenTreasure Chest ThursdayTreasure Chest Thursday ~ Grandchild 2<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">I know you are sitting there thinking good grief... but wait 'til I get through with all 25.<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-RbxfdvpBt-Q/VjKr4xPQiJI/AAAAAAAAS4E/ZHQZZdfFZr8/s1600/thumb_smiley113.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-RbxfdvpBt-Q/VjKr4xPQiJI/AAAAAAAAS4E/ZHQZZdfFZr8/s1600/thumb_smiley113.png" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The second granddaughter and grandchild was just perfect. &nbsp;She has been a delight to see growing up, full of vim and vinegar.&nbsp;</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5Go7n9CXBOg/VjL7-AXcTKI/AAAAAAAAS5E/Yn0RCcHQsOU/s1600/savannah%2Blittle%2Bquiet%2Bhollow.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5Go7n9CXBOg/VjL7-AXcTKI/AAAAAAAAS5E/Yn0RCcHQsOU/s320/savannah%2Blittle%2Bquiet%2Bhollow.JPG" width="229" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A delight to her aunts and so gullible. They loved playing with her..</td></tr></tbody></table>&nbsp;<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-x4MhoxxX1YM/VjL7_nb7rEI/AAAAAAAAS5M/QSYCcIBdmBY/s1600/savannah%2Bnot%2Ba%2Bhappy%2Bsubject.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-x4MhoxxX1YM/VjL7_nb7rEI/AAAAAAAAS5M/QSYCcIBdmBY/s320/savannah%2Bnot%2Ba%2Bhappy%2Bsubject.JPG" width="191" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We had many photo sessions that showed she wasn't a happy camper with a camera pointed at her.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-8_1s0tve4fU/VjL8CmnoZRI/AAAAAAAAS5U/7xd-qPIhQuM/s1600/savannah%2Bgrowing.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-8_1s0tve4fU/VjL8CmnoZRI/AAAAAAAAS5U/7xd-qPIhQuM/s320/savannah%2Bgrowing.JPG" width="209" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Look at that long beautiful blond hair.&nbsp;</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-SEJapCnsUGU/VjL9u5o_ZkI/AAAAAAAAS5g/zQr-_Alxe0U/s1600/savannah%2B2010color.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-SEJapCnsUGU/VjL9u5o_ZkI/AAAAAAAAS5g/zQr-_Alxe0U/s320/savannah%2B2010color.jpg" width="255" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A beautiful shot her mom got of her with her lovely laugh. I love joking with her.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-QZiViCA458s/VjL9zxcjy8I/AAAAAAAAS5o/5EIIprrZmdE/s1600/savannah%2Bsassy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-QZiViCA458s/VjL9zxcjy8I/AAAAAAAAS5o/5EIIprrZmdE/s320/savannah%2Bsassy.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A bit theatrical and sassy, she has developed a talent for dancing, This was a model shoot for a student cosmetologist.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-OC_43-EBNXo/VjL922H9-UI/AAAAAAAAS5w/5gtxLeWbmAE/s1600/savannah%2Bseminary.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-OC_43-EBNXo/VjL922H9-UI/AAAAAAAAS5w/5gtxLeWbmAE/s320/savannah%2Bseminary.jpg" width="213" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">She is a righteous young lady. She got up at 5 am to attend Seminary Studies. This is her graduation.</td></tr></tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-WE8Ya2NJ7mY/VjL-cudK5oI/AAAAAAAAS54/f073jaU-f8o/s1600/savannah%2Bweddinf.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-WE8Ya2NJ7mY/VjL-cudK5oI/AAAAAAAAS54/f073jaU-f8o/s320/savannah%2Bweddinf.jpg" width="123" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Today. Her at her sister's wedding. &nbsp;Turned into a beauty in and out.<br />My happy girl.</td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-fkGNHwsnj0Y/VjMANz6rSjI/AAAAAAAAS6E/O2L6jue2kgg/s1600/Savannah%2Bmagical%2Bsweetiesm.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-fkGNHwsnj0Y/VjMANz6rSjI/AAAAAAAAS6E/O2L6jue2kgg/s400/Savannah%2Bmagical%2Bsweetiesm.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">This is her scrapbook page.</div></div>http://branchingoutthroughtheyears.blogspot.com/2015/10/treasure-chest-thursday-grandchild-2.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (Fran Ellsworth)0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6799118134852549463.post-6515840624391418454Wed, 28 Oct 2015 21:23:00 +00002015-10-28T16:25:31.730-05:00#genealogyMy memoryWedding preparationWordless WednesdayWordless Wednesday ~ Wedding Preparations<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-XyAS_vJZoT8/VjE8NLAFf_I/AAAAAAAAS00/SkNDUc_RqQI/s1600/SCAN0874.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="350" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-XyAS_vJZoT8/VjE8NLAFf_I/AAAAAAAAS00/SkNDUc_RqQI/s400/SCAN0874.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Before the Wedding on Oct 24, 1970.&nbsp;</td></tr></tbody></table><br /></div>http://branchingoutthroughtheyears.blogspot.com/2015/10/wordless-wednesday-wedding-preparationb.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (Fran Ellsworth)0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6799118134852549463.post-7087940227048343036Wed, 28 Oct 2015 01:25:00 +00002015-10-27T20:25:09.172-05:00Family StoriesmemoriesTombstone TuesdayTombstone Tuesday ~ The Care Taker Becomes the One Cared For<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-yCbyDJ-Xyek/VjAhgixNGPI/AAAAAAAAS0M/9qQrLTETB1o/s1600/mildred%2Band%2BChristina.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-yCbyDJ-Xyek/VjAhgixNGPI/AAAAAAAAS0M/9qQrLTETB1o/s320/mildred%2Band%2BChristina.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">In 2010, we took Mildred to clean and care for her husband's grave and she took the time to talk with her granddaughter and great grand children.</td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-rLgl0RFcCLY/VjAhvlUiBQI/AAAAAAAAS0U/bnrooSHOMPM/s1600/mildred%2Bat%2Bgravesite.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-rLgl0RFcCLY/VjAhvlUiBQI/AAAAAAAAS0U/bnrooSHOMPM/s320/mildred%2Bat%2Bgravesite.JPG" width="239" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">In 2012, a picture my brother in law took of her on Memorial Day when they went and cleaned the tombstone.</td></tr></tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-oy3RqhLdAkk/VjAiUm8Q0_I/AAAAAAAAS0c/vOgY6scICEo/s1600/mildred%2Bjean%2Bat%2Btombstone.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-oy3RqhLdAkk/VjAiUm8Q0_I/AAAAAAAAS0c/vOgY6scICEo/s320/mildred%2Bjean%2Bat%2Btombstone.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">2014, My sister in law on Memorial Day after she and her brother cleaned the tombstone for Mildred and Ed her husband.<br />How time passes.</td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /></div>http://branchingoutthroughtheyears.blogspot.com/2015/10/tombstone-tuesday-care-taker-becomes.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (Fran Ellsworth)0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6799118134852549463.post-9013405702579546454Sun, 25 Oct 2015 22:30:00 +00002015-10-28T19:06:08.628-05:00#familyhistoryNapsSentimental SundayTwinsSentimental Sunday ~ The Hero Took Naps.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">Sundays were the day the Hero's family would gather together. &nbsp;It might be just to go by and visit the grandparents, or, it could be to celebrate a holiday or birthdays. &nbsp;The Hero and his twin brother tended to eat as they did when young, and the end result was they found a place to rest afterwards and we would find them asleep somewhere. <br />This scrapbook page was at their sister's. They had gone into the den away from everyone, and either bored each other to sleep, or were watching a game on television. I don't remember why, but finding them both asleep was funny.<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ViMELi-kJSM/Vi1W3VIiZXI/AAAAAAAASvU/Drn8e-6XI2I/s1600/Ned%2Band%2BTed%2BNapping.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ViMELi-kJSM/Vi1W3VIiZXI/AAAAAAAASvU/Drn8e-6XI2I/s400/Ned%2Band%2BTed%2BNapping.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div></div>http://branchingoutthroughtheyears.blogspot.com/2015/10/sentimental-sunday-hero-took-naps.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (Fran Ellsworth)0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6799118134852549463.post-8120138756796196557Sat, 24 Oct 2015 22:02:00 +00002015-10-24T17:02:02.178-05:00A Hero StoryA special memoryAnniversarygone but not forgottenLove can be forever. family historySurname Saturday ~ And They Became One<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="color: #984806; font-family: Pristina; font-size: 28.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-themecolor: accent6; mso-themeshade: 128;">One starry night on October 24<sup>th</sup>, 1970, a couple professed their vows to love and cherish each other, and she took his surname as hers to honor. <o:p></o:p></span></b></div><div class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="color: #984806; font-family: Pristina; font-size: 28.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-themecolor: accent6; mso-themeshade: 128;">In their toast to each other, it was made mention of a “toast to their love together forever”, and so it is and forever shall be. <o:p></o:p></span></b></div><div class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="color: #984806; font-family: Pristina; font-size: 28.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-themecolor: accent6; mso-themeshade: 128;">This 45<sup>th</sup> anniversary is celebrated by the bride with his memory at her side.&nbsp; God has sent a promise that though they are parted, they shall one day be reunited.&nbsp; <o:p></o:p></span></b></div><div class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="color: #984806; font-family: Pristina; font-size: 28.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-themecolor: accent6; mso-themeshade: 128;">My hero is missed but not forgotten, and ever waited upon for the loving reunion. <o:p></o:p></span></b></div><br /><div class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="color: #984806; font-family: Pristina; font-size: 28.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-themecolor: accent6; mso-themeshade: 128;">FE<o:p></o:p></span></b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7v8Oe2FGQhs/Viv-9t_Ok0I/AAAAAAAASvA/D2zMfX4XC10/s1600/NedandI%2Bweddingweb.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="397" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7v8Oe2FGQhs/Viv-9t_Ok0I/AAAAAAAASvA/D2zMfX4XC10/s400/NedandI%2Bweddingweb.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="color: #984806; font-family: Pristina; font-size: 28.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-themecolor: accent6; mso-themeshade: 128;"><br /></span></b></div></div>http://branchingoutthroughtheyears.blogspot.com/2015/10/surname-saturday-and-they-became-one.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (Fran Ellsworth)4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6799118134852549463.post-6826644510028808664Fri, 23 Oct 2015 20:02:00 +00002015-10-23T15:02:03.525-05:00EdifyFollow FridayGenealogy greatsGratitudeFollow Friday ... Grateful for...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-TNE9obBGDSc/ViqRlX4j_MI/AAAAAAAASus/BGEleotOBdE/s1600/NS_Thankful_WB_Grateful.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="76" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-TNE9obBGDSc/ViqRlX4j_MI/AAAAAAAASus/BGEleotOBdE/s320/NS_Thankful_WB_Grateful.png" width="320" /></a></div><br />It has been a long time since I have done the prompt "Follow Friday". &nbsp;After the feeds changed, I went to subscribing to the posts. &nbsp;That meant most of the time I have not gone to the website and posted a comment. &nbsp;This is nice to not miss a post, but I have begun to wonder if the writers of the blogs wonder how their posts are being received. &nbsp;Today I thought I would give a few a shout out.<br />Roberta Estes has helped me so very much in sharing knowledge about DNA... a heroine to me at <a href="http://dna-explained.com/">DNAeXplained - Genetic Genealogy</a>. &nbsp;Judy Russell has broadened my understanding of legal issues, and reading a document, yeah for <a href="http://www.legalgenealogist.com/">The Legal Genealogist</a>&nbsp;. &nbsp;If you are a beginning genealogy blogger, <a href="http://www.geneabloggers.com/">Geneabloggers</a> by Thomas MacEntee is still the best for getting you started and keeping you going.<br /><a href="http://www.amyjohnsoncrow.com/blog/">Amy Johnson Crow</a> has to be one of the greatest caring genealogy bloggers for giving prompts that really make a difference in our personal posts of family history. &nbsp;Jana Last on<a href="http://janasgenealogyandfamilyhistory.blogspot.com/"> Jana's Genealogy and Family History Blog</a> has been a great blogger herself, but even more, she has been a great edifier to many bloggers with her&nbsp;Follow Friday ~ Fab Finds. &nbsp;There are more but I will save for another day.<br />Be a great follower and be sure and leave for those that serve the genealogy community as a whole a word of thanks or encouragement so they will stay with us in the long haul.<br />Later, friends.&nbsp;</div>http://branchingoutthroughtheyears.blogspot.com/2015/10/follow-friday-grateful-for.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (Fran Ellsworth)2